


Something So Wrong

by Kinglivv



Category: Doctor Who, Doctor Who (2005)
Genre: Abusive Parents, Age Difference, Alternate Universe, F/F, Family Issues, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-03
Updated: 2021-01-27
Packaged: 2021-03-09 18:54:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 6,265
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27861114
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Kinglivv/pseuds/Kinglivv
Summary: When you kiss your teacher, you can’t find it within yourself to show your face at school again. What you don’t bargain on is having that same teacher turn up on your doorstep two weeks later. You and the Doctor begin to navigate the most complicated of relationships together, all while trying to keep it a secret.Originally posted on Tumblr
Relationships: Thirteenth Doctor & Reader, Thirteenth Doctor/Reader
Comments: 2
Kudos: 45





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Come say hi to me on tumblr! @kinglivv

The last thing you’d expected to see on a Wednesday night was your physics teacher standing at your door in the pouring rain.

As soon as you open it, your mouth falls open and your heart rate just about doubles.

“No.” You state firmly, moving to slam the door in her face, but she jams it with her foot just in time.

“Y/N,” The Doctor says, sounding exasperated. “You’ve been off for two weeks. The school’s worried about you.”

“Like fuck they are.”

You can almost hear her wince at your language.

“They sent me to check up on you.”

“Why did they have to send you?”

“Because I’m your head of year as well as your physics teacher, remember?”

You pull the door open a crack more so you can peek out to look at her.

“Are you sure that’s only reason you’re here?” It’s a low blow, and she glares at you.

“Y/N,” She takes a breath, seemingly trying to calm herself. “I know this isn’t ideal but it’s tipping it down. I need to talk to your family. Can I just come in?”

You stare at her, weighing up the pros and cons of letting her in. On the one hand, you were angry at her and embarrassed. On the other hand, here was your beautiful physics teacher, standing in the pouring rain and asking you to let her into your flat like something out of a movie.

Holding your tongue, you turn on your heels and leave the door open. It’s the closest thing she’s getting to an invitation, and she takes it, stepping in after you.

“I’m home alone,” You tell her as you make your way to the sitting room. “Mum’s at her boyfriend’s.”

“Right.” She answers warily, following you. She sheds her coat, dumping it on the arm of the sofa and sits on the opposite end to you.

“So,” She says awkwardly, looking vulnerable without her massive coat. “Why haven’t you been in school then?”

“Why do you think?” You spit out, glaring at her.

She rubs her hands over her face, leaning her elbows on her lap.

“God, we’ve got more to discuss than just a few absences, haven’t we?”

“It would seem so,” You reply dryly.

It had happened two weeks ago, like she said. Monday was the day she tutored you after school - you were falling behind in physics and so she’d eagerly offered to help you out if you stayed after class. It had become your favourite day of the week, just you and her. You were terrible at physics, but you were content to sit and listen to her ramble on if it meant you got to gaze at her and have her full attention.

As it turned out, she felt exactly the same way.

You had sensed it coming, but you hadn’t been sure if it was just your over-excited teenage brain making it up. You’d more than once caught her eyes drift down to your lips, and she seemed keen on unnecessary little touches which she didn’t seem to share with other students.

But the last time you’d seen her, it had all came crashing down.

You’d had a terrible Monday. Your Mum had told you she was spending yet another night at her boyfriend’s and not with you, and you’d manage to fall out with your entire friendship group. You’d thought your tutoring session with the Doctor would help cheer you up, but then you’d gotten frustrated over something to do with Newton’s Laws that you just couldn’t understand - it was so tiny but it had pushed you over the edge and you’d began to cry.

Her hand had cupped your cheek and wiped your tears away, and you’d just thought ‘Today’s already terrible, so fuck it’, leaned in and pressed your lips to hers.

It was messy and inexperienced, and she’d initially just stood stunned and frozen against you. But then she’d melted into it and your heart had leaped. In seconds, your hand was in her hair, and you were almost falling out of your seat as she kissed you harder. A hand had even been pushed under your t-shirt, coming teasingly close to your breast.

And then a door had slammed, somewhere along the corridor, and she’d jumped away in fright, cheeks red and eyes wide. She’d cursed, roughly ordered you out of her classroom, and subsequently you’d decided to avoid school for the forseeable future.

You couldn’t face her after that, and yet now here she was

“Y/N,” The Doctor sighs. “That should never had happened.”

“You let it happen.” You retort.

“No I didn’t!”

“You kissed me back.” You point out and she goes bright red.

“That’s not the point,” She mutters, and you raise an eyebrow. An uncomfortable silence falls and then she speaks again, sounding uncharacteristically nervous. “Have you told anyone about it?”

“Of course not,” You frown. “Why would I do that?”

“I dunno. To brag?”

“You’re nothing to brag about.” You didn’t mean for it to sound like an insult, but it does and you cringe.

She snorts. “Cheers.”

“No, I didn’t mean it like that,” You sigh, turning so you shift slightly closer. “I mean’t I don’t want to risk whatever we have.”

She looks at you with wide-eyes, and suddenly she doesn’t look like your physics teacher anymore. She just looks scared and young and ever so small.

“We can’t 'have’ anything Y/N.” She whispers.

“Why not?” You ask. “I’m 17. It’s legal.”

“I’m your teacher!” She splutters. “I have a duty of care! Of responsibility! I can’t take advantage of you. You’re a teenage girl.”

“A teenage girl which you kissed.”

That was a cruel and unnecessary statement, and you expect a telling off, but instead she’s just staring at you. A drop of water rolls down her cheek, and at first you think it’s just some rain left over but then you realise that it’s a tear and she’s crying.

“I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said that.” You say quickly and you feel a strange urge to reach out to her. You grab her hand and she lets you.

“I’m fucked, Y/N,” She breathes out. “I’m so, so fucked. I could lose my job, I could go to jail!”

“That’s not going to happen.” You tell her firmly grabbing her other hand so she’s forced to face you. “Because nobody is ever going to find out.”

“That still doesn’t make it right.” She insists.

“It was only a kiss.”

“I know, but I… but I want it to be more,” She admits. “And that’s wrong and innappropriate and I can’t want that. I can’t, Y/N.”

Ten minutes ago, if you’d heard those words leave her lips, you’d feel giddy with excitement and lust. But now you just feel worried at the weight of them, the implications of what these feelings may have. You can see the ongoing battle in her eyes as she stares at you longingly.

With no idea as to what else to say, you reach up to cup her cheek, exactly as she had done to you in that science classroom, and pull her in. The kiss is slow and reassuring, nothing like your first one. You’re anxious - you can feel your heart in your throat, and you hope she can’t sense the sweat in your palms. You’d kissed people before when you were drunk, but you’d never done it like this before. Not with a girl, and especially not with your teacher.

You pull away after a second, allowing her time to process the action.

“Should something so wrong feel that good?” You ask softly. She stares back, pupils big and breath warm.

“Y/N,” She murmers. “You are going to be the death of me.”

She leans back in, and this time the kiss has purpose and want, and you allow her to press you down against the sofa, head resting on the arm. She clambers on top of you and you lie there, too dazed to do anything but move your lips against hers, and yes, this is definitely the reunion you’d wanted. Her tongue licks over your lips, and then pushes into your mouth and oh, that feels like crossing a line. You shouldn’t have your teacher’s tongue half way down your throat, but it sends a spark through you and you eagerly grab at her hips. She breaks the kiss when your fingers push under her top.

“You want this?” She rushes out, catching your hand. “Are you sure you want this?”

“More than anything.” You tell her, and her face lights up the same way it does when she’s talking about special relativity or unbalanced forces. You glance around. “But not on my mum’s couch.” Pushing her off of you, you stand up, grabbing her hands. “Come on.”

You tug her down the hall and into your room. She glances around it as she steps inside, and you can see the guilt well in her eyes again when she sees that it’s just a normal teenager’s bedroom, filled with posters and clothes and school textbooks.

“No, come on,” You practically beg. You almost had her - you didn’t want her spiralling back into morals and ethics again. In an attempt to distract her, you duck down and begin to press hot, open mouthed kisses to her neck, making her gasp. You reach the spot right over her pulse and suck, and she loses it, turning to putty in your hands and shuddering against you, nails clawing at your back.

“Y/N,” She whines your name over and over, getting higher pitched each time, and it’s the most beautiful sound you’ve ever heard. You walk her over to your bed, and she sits down pulling you onto her lap.

“Have you done this before?” She asks, tugging your t-shirt off, staring at your breasts like she’s just discovered a new planet.

“Never gone this far.” Your stutter slightly when you feel her unclip your bra, leaving you suddenly exposed. The combination of your words and your body’s reaction makes her freeze.

“Sorry,” She says quickly. “Too far? Of course you’ve never done this… We don’t have to, we shouldn’t really be doing this anyways, so it’s fine if-”

You shut her up by bringing one of her hands to your breast, and then shifting off her lap, tugging her down after you so she’s on top of you again. You’re never going to get tired of the sight of her like this, leaning over you, golden hair falling around her face, lips parted and slightly swollen. You have to pinch yourself as a reminder that this is your physics teacher you’ve got here, someone you’ve fantasized about for so long.

You’re beginning to lose all sense of reality when slender fingers begin to undo your jeans.

“Oh, Y/N?” She says, fingers resting just above the crotch of your pants and you want to scream at her to please keep going. “I should warn you. This doesn’t mean I’m going be giving you better grades.”

You laugh out loud, and it quickly turns to a needy moan as her fingers finally plunge inside.


	2. Chapter 2

You knew fine well that you weren’t allowed to be here, but you had no other option and you were getting rather desperate.

It was almost embarrassing that you had been reduced to this - you wouldn’t be surprised if she slammed the door in your face right after opening it, ordering you off her property. You wouldn’t blame her either, but you prayed she’d at least give you a minute to explain yourself.

So here you were, stood on her doorstep and shivering in the night air.

As it turns out, your physics teacher has pretty a nice house. It was big, had a brilliant view over Sheffield and the vibrant garden was filled with tulips and roses. You had been standing in front of the door for the past five minutes, trying to pluck up the courage to knock.

It feels strangely ironic - only a few days ago she had stood on your doorstep, asking to be let inside, only it was for a entirely different reason and she had ended up staying almost the whole night.

You jump when to your surprise, the door opens despite you not announcing yourself.

“Y/N?” She asks, stunned when she sees you there, standing in your school uniform. She’s wearing a loose t-shirt with a rainbow across the front, black leggings, and her hair’s pulled back in a little ponytail with wispy blonde hairs framing her face.

“Hi…” You say rather sheepishly.

“You can’t be here!” She hisses. “What is it?”

You bite your lip. Maybe this was a stupid idea?

“I’m sorry, I’ve got no where else to go,” You tell her quickly. “Really, this is the last place I wanted to come, but my Mum kicked me out and usually I’d stay at my mates but they’re all busy because it’s Friday, and I’ve got no money to go to a hotel…” You stop yourself when you realise you’re rambling.

She knows what you’re asking, you can see it on her face, and you can also see her trying to decide what to do.

“You’ve really got no where else to go?”

“No.”

“No family? No friends? No way your Mum’s going to let you back in?”

“I swear,” You reply. “This isn’t me trying to get with you or anything, I just-”

“Y/N,” She cuts you off. “It’s fine. You can stay here if you want - it’s not like it would be the worst thing we’ve done.”

“Thank you. Really.” You smile gratefully as relief washes over you, and she holds the door open for you as you follow her inside. It feels a little awkward - you’d talked a little after it happened when she’d lay down next to you in the darkness for twenty minutes, the sweat still drying on her skin. However, you’d completely avoided each other at school. The Doctor had told you firmly that no one could ever know that this happened and that you couldn’t be seen with her. You were both utterly terrified of anyone suspecting something was going on.

“No one knows you’re here, right?” She asks, and you shake your head.

“I have all my overnight stuff, by the way,” You tell her. “Managed to shove it all into my school bag before I left.”

“That’s fine,” She replies lightly. “Leave your stuff there. Do you want anything to drink?”

“Just water, thanks.” You shrug off your backpack and place it on the floor before hanging up your coat. You follow her through to her kitchen which, surprisingly, is massive.

“Woah,” You say, staring at the marble countertops and probably very expensive appliances. “How do you afford all this?” It’s a rude question, but she doesn’t seem to be bothered.

“I do some other stuff besides teaching.”

“That makes you sound like you’re a drug dealer. Or a stripper,” You say conversationally, sitting down at the island, and she gives you a look. “Not that I’m complaining. You’d be a great stripper.”

“I write articles and work part-time for NASA.” She corrects bluntly, in the same voice she uses to deflect annoying year sevens. But there’s a sparkle in her eyes as she places your drink down and you can tell she isn’t really bothered by your words. “Have you had your tea?”

“Yep,” You reply.

“Just as well. I’m a rubbish cook and mine’s already half finished.” She motions to the stove, and it’s then that you notice the pot sitting on it, simmering away. “Don’t you have homework to be getting on with?”

“No.”

“What about the collision and momentum stuff I set on Tuesday?”

There’s a pause.

“I lost it.”

She rolls her eyes and then reaches for her bag which is set on the table. Her shirt dips as she leans over and you feel your cheeks heat up as you try not to look down it. She pulls out a sheet of paper and slaps it down in front of you, grinning triumphantly.

“Get on with it.” She orders cheerfully.

You give her a withering look, but pick up the pen. You guessed this was the downside of staying (sleeping?) with your teacher.

You begin to work your way through the questions, but when you get stuck on the second one, you find your gaze wandering to where she’s standing with her back to you, stirring whatever she’s got cooking. You watch as she turns off the hob, spooning it from the pan into a bowl, and your eyes rake over her curves. When she turns around to find you staring at her, she raises an eyebrow.

“What?”

You snap back to reality. “Question two?”

She sets the bowl down and sits next to you. She points to the question. “P equals M multiplied by V.”

You nod, turning back to your calculations. It’s strange to think that only a few nights ago, she had been in your bed doing sinful things and making you feel the best you’d ever felt - wanted, appreciated, loved. And now here you were. Doing physics homework at her kitchen table while she ate her tea.

You frown when you find the answer’s still wrong, even after using the right calculation. You’re about to give up when she points to a number.

“That’s supposed to be a negative, because it’s going in the opposite direction,” She says. “Makes all the difference, love.”

You’re about to correct it when her words register in your head. You glance up at her.

“What?” She asks.

“You just called me love.” You state smugly.

Her face twists slightly.

“And?”

“You don’t call any other student that.”

“You’re not exactly any other student, though, are you?” She sighs. “Look, Y/N. Whatever this is, please don’t get attached to it and act like it’s something -”

“What?” You jerk away.

“I can get in a lot of trouble.”

“You knew that beforehand,” You tell her angrily. “We spoke about that and you still did it, and now what? You’ve had your fun and decided that I was a mistake, after I trusted you with something so special?”

“No, Y/N, I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have said it like that,” She grabs your arm. “You’re not a mistake, you mean too much to me.”

You stare at her, waiting for her to continue.

“I’m just… scared. And I don’t want you to think I’m going to sleep with you tonight or the other way around.”

“So you’re saying, that it was just a one time thing?” You ask quietly.

“I don’t know,” She replies, a sadness in her tone. “I’m just saying not tonight. And not ‘til I’ve figured out everything. I’m still not exactly proud of myself for what we did.”

“I wanted it, though,” You tell her. “You didn’t take advantage of me. It wasn’t just a spur of the moment thing.”

She nods, and you can tell that consoles her a little.

“And I also wouldn’t expect you to do anything you weren’t comfortable with, Doc. Tonight or any night.” You take her hand, lacing your fingers together and she smiles softly, the tension breaking.

“Do you mind me asking what happened with your mum?”

You shrug. “We don’t really get along. She’s not the person she used to be. She changed a lot when she lost her job and Dad left us.”

“I’m sorry. That must be tough on both of you.”

“She’s not someone to feel sorry for.” You contradict. “She spends all her time with her arsehole boyfriend, she’s given up looking for a job, and she’s pretty homophobic.”

“Are you out to her?”

“Yeah, doesn’t mean she accepts it though.”

“I’m sorry. I know what that’s like.” She squeezes your hand comfortingly, and you suddenly realise that maybe you both have more in common than just lust. “Does anyone else know about what’s going on?”

“Yaz and you now, apparently,” You reply. “I can handle myself.”

“I know.”

With nothing else to say you sigh and look back at your worksheet.

“I’m not really in the mood for physics anymore.” You tell her.

“No,” She agrees. “And I’m not really hungry. How about a movie?”

“Definitely.”

\- - -

The movie ends up being the 1973 version of Superman, and the Doctor proceeds to point out all of the terrible and incorrect physics in it.

“Well that’s just completely obliterated Newton’s third law,” She huffs at the screen as the credits roll. You’re not really paying any attention to it, half dozing off against her. She had allowed you to slump against her shoulder and at some point her arm had wound around you so your head was cushioned on her chest.

“Shush,” You hush her, swatting her side and she huffs good naturedly.

“You should go to bed now,” She hums. “It’s almost eleven.”

“No, come on.” You groan, shifting against her. Despite your protests, you really are falling asleep. You couldn’t help it - she’s so warm and soft. You peak an eye open and glance up at the mantlepiece.

“Who’s that?” You ask sleepily, pointing to picture of the Doctor and another woman, with a mass of brown hair and piercing blue eyes. They’re sitting in a restaurant somewhere, their arms wrapped around each other and grins on their faces.

“That’s Missy,” The Doctor says fondly. “My wife.”

“Your what?” You splutter, about to sit up in surprise but she pulls you back down into her, wrapping strong arms around you.

“She’s dead, you idiot.” She laughs, but then her tone turns solemn. “Died a few years ago.”

“I’m sorry.”

“She wasn’t a good person,” The Doctor sighs. “She was good to me, but she got herself into a lot of trouble and she died as a result.”

“Oh,” You don’t want to press for details, especially when things had been going so well between you for the past couple hours.

“She’d probably laugh at me now,” The Doctor continues. “Carrying on with a bloody student.”

“At least you’re living a little.”

“That’s exactly what she’d say,” She chuckles fondly, running a hand through your hair.

“Who’s that?” She turns your question back on you and points to your phone where tucked into your clear phone case is a picture of a dog.

“That’s my auntie’s dog, Theo. They live in London. I want to go live with them one day.”

“Theo?” She asks. “That’s like my name.”

“Your name?” You sit up to look at her properly. “I thought it was just the Doctor.”

She snorts. “That’s just a side effect of a well earned PHD, darling. My name’s Thea. Only Missy ever used it - I much prefer the Doctor”

You smile. “That’s a pretty name.”

“Thanks.” She reaches up to tuck a hair behind your ear, and the movement makes her shirt slip down slightly, revealing a fading hickey you’d left there the other night. A smug smirk forms on your face, and you reach out to trace over it gently with a thumb. She glances down and rolls her eyes.

“I can’t believe you did that,” She says. “I’ve had to wear jumpers all week.”

“I like your jumpers, they fit you nice,” You reply. “And besides. You should see the marks on my thighs.”

“I have, I put them there.” She retorts, and the looks at the clock again. “I’ll get you some blankets for the sofa.”

“The sofa?” You pout.

She bites her lip.

“Fine, then. My bed.”


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There's mild smut at the end of this chapter, so avoid that if it's not your thing! Come say hi on tumblr: https://kinglivv.tumblr.com/

"Y/N?"

Your eyes blink open slowly, wincing in the bright light of the room.

"Y/N, darling, it's 9am." The Doctor's crouched next to the bed, eye level with you. Sunlight filters through the curtains, reflecting off her perfect face, and you blink sleepily, revelling in the fact that you get to wake up to such a view. However - as much as you want to continue staring at her, it's early and you're tired.

"No," You mumble, turning back to press your face into the pillow. " S'too early."

You hear her chuckle. "You really are a teenager," and she disappears off somewhere. Part of you wants to ask her to come back, but you know you've already pushed your luck - she'd allowed you to sleep the whole night in her bed. You’d fallen asleep to the peaceful sound of her breathing, a pale arm slung over you protectively in a way you weren’t completely sure was intentional and you'd slept the best you had in months.

Eventually - after about ten minutes - you do persuade yourself get up. You can hear the noise of a coffee machine grumbling in the kitchen, the smell of it drifting through, and your stomach rumbles.

You wouldn't mind some breakfast right about now, especially breakfast with _her_.

You wander down to the kitchen to find her there, standing in a blue dressing gown which almost makes your jaw drop. The Doctor had never been a beacon of fashion or stylishness, but right now she looked ethereal, standing barefoot and engrossed in buttering a slice of toast. You wondered if she knew how beautiful she was.

You glance down at the oversized t-shirt you'd brought as pyjamas and feel significantly underdressed.

"Coffee?" She asks, and you nod silently, not trusting yourself to say anything. You’d just spent a night asleep in your teacher’s bed. Wasn’t this meant to be awkward?

You approach the kitchen island where you’d sat and done your homework last night to find your phone sitting on the table.

Not where you had left it last night.

"I charged it," She informs you. "I think you've got some missed calls."

You groan and reluctantly tap the on button to find eight missed calls from your mum within the last hour. In the process, you also notice a certain _someone's_ put a new number in your phone, marked "Doc xx". It makes you feel warm and fuzzy inside, but you don't point it out.

"You should call back," The Doctor advises. "She'll be worried."

"Yeah, about who's going to pay for her next cab fare to her boyfriend's." You deadpan. The Doctor's about to respond when as if on cue, the phone begins to ring, and the picture of your Mum smiling lights up the screen.

Reluctantly, you press answer and hold it up to your ear.

"Hi Mum," You say, trying to keep the weariness out of your voice.

"Y/N, I've been trying to get a hold of you for ages!"

"Yeah, I noticed," You reply. "And good morning to you too."

"Where the hell are you?"

The Doctor visibly tenses at that and you watch curiously as her hazel eyes grow impossibly wide, anxiety rising in them.

"I'm at Yaz's." You reply finally.

The Doctor relaxes and sets down a mug in front of you, her hand resting briefly on your hip as she does so. You shoot her a grateful look.

"Why are you there?" Your mother asks, as if she couldn't see any reason at all for it.

"Do you not remember kicking me out last night?" You ask, an edge to your voice. "Or has the hangover clouded that little memory?"

There's a silence on the other side of the line.

"When will you be back?" She asks instead. "And where's your purse? I need money for the bus."

You pinch your brow, resisting the urge to shout at her. But you really weren't in the mood to have yet another argument with your mum, especially in front of the Doctor.

"It's in the pocket of my blue coat. I'll see you tonight." You say bluntly, before hanging up.

"Well that went..." The Doctor trails off, as you place your phone down on the expensive countertop with a thud.

"Pretty smoothly," You input brightly. "Compared to last night."

She tilts her head and gives you sympathetic shrug before: "There's some cereal in the top cabinet if you want it. Oh, and toast! Well – bread you can make toast with. I don't know what you'd prefer. I'd make you something but..."

"You're an rubbish cook," You finish, and she grins. "Cereal's great." You stand up to grab a bowl and pull some out from the cupboard.

"So," She says, as you begin to pour it into the bowl. "You told her you were at Yaz's?"

"Yep," You begin to pour in the milk.

"Is she gonna... check that?"

"Nope," You reply, popping the P and dropping a spoon into the bowl with a satisfying clink. "Don't think she even knows where Yaz lives."

"Really?" The Doctor frowns taking a bite from her toast. "But you're with Yaz all the time."

"She doesn't really pay attention to who I'm with," You reply as you watch her begin to spoon 5 spoonful’s of sugar into her coffee. "I could - that's disgusting by the way - I could be hanging out with _Harold Saxon_ for all she cares."

"Ick," The Doctor visibly shudders. "He _is_ a creep."

"Oh, so teachers notice too?"

"He asked me if I was single."

You burst out laughing, and after a second she joins in.

"He seems to think he's intitled to everything, including women. Never fails to brighten up my school day." You tell her, and her face twists.

"Speaking of school," She begins, trying to broach the subject gently. "We need to talk about how we're going to manage... this." She motions in between you two.

" _This?"_ You echo, raising an eyebrow. "I thought you said you were still figuring everything out?"

"Well..." She opens her mouth to say something, but no words come out.

"I'm not expecting you to meet me at lunch time and fuck me in your classroom, if that's what you're saying."

"Y/N!" She hisses, going bright red. "Don't say stuff like that!"

"Look," You tell her. "I stand by what I said that night. I don't plan on telling anyone, and but I also don't mind what we're doing. I'm 17, almost 18. I'm okay with this."

"So we've got a... deal, then?" She says cautiously. "We don't tell and we'll see where we goes." The words feel alien on her lips as she can’t quite believe she’s actually agreeing to this.

" _If_ it goes anywhere." You agree, and that seems to relax her a little as she nods silently, hiding her face behind a sip of coffee. You walk past her to get to the sink, washing your dirty dishes. When you turn back, you can't resist it.

"I can tell you're a bit turned on at the idea of fucking me in your classroom though." You say quietly in her ear as you pass, and she stiffens. You expect her to be scandalised, to blush and tell you off, but when you try move away, a hand shoots out and grabs your waist, pinning you to the edge of the table.

" _You're_ the one who suggested it, darling." She replies lowly as she steps in front of you, in a tone of voice you've never heard her use before, and _oh_ it makes your stomach flutter. Your gaze drops to her lips and you can't help but remember so vividly the feel of them on you, on your skin and between your legs.

The hand on your waist tightens slightly, and her lips part as her breathing hitches. You might have only done this once before with her, but you had quickly learned that you adored the Doctor's reactions to the little things. A word, your mouth on a certain spot, a tug of her hair. She leans in slightly, close enough that you're going cross-eyed staring into her eyes.

"Do it." You whisper. It's a command, a request and a plea all in one. It's all she needs.

Lips come crashing into yours, hot and sweet and just as good as the first time. Nimble fingers ruck up your over-sized t-shirt until it's bunched around your waist and you swing your arms around her shoulders, jumping up onto the table. She steps between your legs, kissing you harder and you can’t quite believe that this is the same woman who spent half an hour explaining Hubble’s constant in class on Monday.

"So _this_ is where we’re going." You joke breathlessly against her lips as a hand runs down her front.

She pauses against you. "S'that bad?" Her voice wobbles slightly, because of course this is probably bad. She knows it is and she’s practically begging for you to convince her otherwise.

"No." You tell her, because in your opinion it was anything but.

As if to emphasise your point, you quickly pull the robe looser, allowing a hand to slip inside. She moans into your mouth, concerns forgotten and your hips jerk at the sound if it, pressing against her stomach. Vaguely, you wonder what happened to your conversation last night about no sex, but you can't bring yourself to complain when she pulls away slightly, a hand in your hair tugging your head back so your neck is utterly exposed to her. She begins to kiss and nip her way along your jaw and down it, and you feel yourself becoming dizzy with need. It was so _much_ , so many sensations and you were all but happy to let yourself be consumed by her.

"Please," You breathe when she breaks the kiss. Grinning, her hands tug at the waistband of your pants.

"Up," She commands lightly, and you raise your hips off the table slightly in order to allow her to tug them down.

It's all over too quickly - the feeling of her on you and in you, and you're coming apart after minutes, your face pressed into her shoulder as she brings you to the edge, dangles you, and then drops you over. You're praying that your stamina will improve with time - it was almost embarrassing to come that fast. However, when you finally muster the energy to pull back and look at her, there's something in her eyes that makes you wonder if she actually _likes_ the fact that your inexperienced and weak.

Well, you'll show her.

Before she's got a chance to say anything, you slip off the table and grab her hips, kissing her and walking her backwards across the room until she hits the window. They're picture windows, with a view out on to the patio and lawn and you mentally thank the Gods that there's no neighbouring houses overlooking it, because what you're about to do is for your eyes and your eyes only.

Your fingers go to the gap in her robe, revealing the expanse of her body to you. You can't help but gaze at her in awe, realising that this is _real_ and it’s _all_ yours.

For now, at least.

"Y/N," She chides gently, and realising your thoughts had wandered away with you, you blink and snap back into action.

She watches with wide eyes as you trail a hand down her stomach, breath coming in short gasps.

"God, have no idea how good you look right now." She manages, staring at you with flushed cheeks and starry eyes.

"Right back at you, babe."

You manage to keep the nervous quiver out of your voice. You glance up at her, and she seems to sense your anxiety.

"Y/N," She swallows. "You don't have to do anything, darling, I... _oh_."

The first touch of your fingers against her earns your a high pitched moan and a dull thud as her head falls back against the window. Her hands card in your hair, pulling you so close that you're sharing the same air. You feel a flash of pride as you watch her, your _teacher_ , coming apart like this beneath you.

You continue your onslaught, and it only take 5 minutes and two fingers before she finally comes back down to Earth and pushes you away, her cheeks are flushed and panting for air.

"How was that?" You smile.

Her response is to lean in and kiss you.

"Fucking hell," She's dazed and breathless when you pull away. "Where'd you learn that?"

"I've got a brilliant teacher." You reply, doing her robe up and stifling a laugh at the stunned expression on her face. "Mind if I use your shower? I have work at twelve."

"Work?" She's so close you can feel her breath on your lips.

"Yeah," You reply, your thumb rubbing absent minded circles into her hip. "Tescos. I told you, Mum's stopped looking for a job. Who do you think buys the food?"

She smiles, a hint of sadness within it.

"Off you go then," She says. "There’re towels under the sink."

"You don't wanna join?"

She wrinkles her nose (adorably) and shakes her head. "I've got marking to be getting on with, love."

You press a final kiss to her lips, before heading for the shower, a giddy smile on your lips.

It felt like you had finally won her over.

Her words _'we'll see where this goes'_ fill you with a hope and elation you can't quite describe and it makes your fingertips tingle. _Yes,_ there had still been an ounce of guilt in her eyes when she'd pushed you against the counter, but that had been dispelled by the time you had gotten her pressed between your body and the window.

You'd take that as a win.


End file.
